


12.05 - Evening

by dontbefancy



Series: Christmas Traditions - Klaine Advent 2014 [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:49:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2724443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbefancy/pseuds/dontbefancy





	12.05 - Evening

Kurt met Blaine at a bar in The Village about eighteen months ago. They arrived with their own collection of friends, bumped into each other during a break from the go-go show and went home together.

They spent the rest of that night having sloppy drunken sex and daring each other to buy useless pieces of kitchen equipment from Home Shopping Network.

_O God, come to my assistance.  
O Lord, make haste to help me. _

They spent the next morning having less sloppy, less drunken sex and, well… they just never really stopped. Sex started things between them to be sure, but the fun they had together, the ease they found in each other's company, the ridiculous amounts of things they had in common bonded them even further, and here they were, looking at their second Christmas together.

_Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.  
As it was in the beginning, both now and ever, and unto ages of ages._

The point is, that from the beginning, spirituality, faith, religion never defined Blaine, never factored into who he was, who they were, or who they desired to be. It was a non-topic. While Blaine was far from saint material—the man cussed like a sailor and only called out to "god" in the throes of passion—he was good and kind, decent and generous, and those qualities never had anything to do with God, god, or gods.

_Amen.  
Alleluia._

Until the previous Christmas. Their first Christmas, when Kurt had suggested meeting up at the new pop-up in Chelsea and Blaine politely declined saying vaguely, "I have some other plans." Kurt shrugged it off—they had lives separate from one another as well—but it was an unusual rejection from Blaine, a rejection without detail or explanation.

 _Jehovah is my light and my salvation;_  
Whom shall I fear?  
Jehovah is the strength of my life;  
Of whom shall I be afraid?

The explanation came this year. Kurt suggested a play they'd talked about seeing and again Blaine responded with, "I have some other—" But this time, he stopped himself. He smiled at Kurt in a way Kurt hadn't quite seen before. "Would you come to evening vespers with me?"

_Say to the faint of heart: Be strong and do not fear.  
Behold, our God will come, and he will save us. _

Blaine explained that his grandmother had dragged him as a boy and as he grew, he became quite comforted by them, putting him in the right mind to settle from the bustle of the holiday into the peace that could surround the season if you only let it in. "I only go during advent. Would you come?"

_Who delivered us out of the power of darkness, and translated us into the kingdom of the Son of his love; in whom we have our redemption, the forgiveness of our sins._

And so they went to a church up on Fifth Avenue, large and ornate with carved wood pews and altar pieces. The front of the church was covered in so many pipes from their numerous organs, that it looked to be the wall that held up that side of the monstrous building. The expected stained glass windows dotted along the aisle walls and Kurt vowed he would come by again during daylight hours to see the colors of them rain onto the wooden pews.

_Rejoice in the Lord always: again I will say, Rejoice._

Kurt was not a fan of church. Of religion. Of God. Those things were never known to be a fan of him either, so he never really made acquaintance, even when his friends had genuinely tried when his father's health laid in the balance in high school. But, he could not deny there was a _presence_ here. A peace. A supremacy to the surroundings.

_In nothing be anxious; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God._

Kurt sat silently as the congregation responded to every called liturgical phrase without cue. The voices swelled into the arches of the room and around him, tranquil, if not a bit mundane.

 _Lord, show us your mercy and love._  
Lord, show us your mercy and love.  
And grant us your salvation  
Your mercy and love.  
Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit.  
Lord, show us your mercy and love.

Mercy. Love. These were things he believed in. He knew love: familial love, love of friends and the redefinition of the word—romantic, overpowering, life-changing, blood-pumping love that he felt for this man who brought him to this beautiful place because it mattered to him.

_My soul doth magnify the Lord and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.  
For he hath regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden._

Kurt knew ritual. He was propelled by many of his own. And that's really all this was for these people—a ritual, practiced from the heart, out of obligation, out of faith, out of awe-inspired respect.

And it was magnificent.

Blaine was magnificent. His eyelashes fanned across his cheek, his hands folded gently in front of him as they stood, in his lap when they sat. When singing the antiphonal responses, his voice was rich and soft, belying the full belt of tone he could get on stage at school. Belying the deep, debauched tones Kurt could elicit from him when he—

Kurt shifted in his seat and blushed. The dichotomy of who he knew Blaine to be, and the truth in what he was witnessing as Blaine worshipped was an epiphany of emotional riches.

A new sense of spirituality, of "other-ness" settled around him, around them as the service came to a close. Kurt felt transformed.

_Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come._

Kurt joined in this time, taking Blaine's hand asking with a whispered, "Is this okay?"

Blaine responded by squeezing his fingers and continued the familiar prayer:

_Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen._

As the priest—or was it a pastor?—recited another prayer, Kurt leaned into Blaine's side, asking as softly as he could. "Do they do this again at Easter?"

"They do this every day."

"Every—"

"But I only come at Christmas."

"Can we—can we come again this spring? Renewal and all… " Kurt pulled away, feeling the dismissal from the pulpit was aimed directly at him.

_Go in peace  
Thanks be to God_

Blaine nodded and took tighter hold of Kurt's hand, bringing it up to his lips for a tender kiss. "We can come again for Easter."

_May the Lord bless us, protect us from all evil, and bring us to everlasting life  
Amen_


End file.
